


Love Bytes

by phonecallfromgod



Category: The Social Network (2010)
Genre: Blood Drinking, Final Clubs as Vampires, Implied Mark/Eduardo, Interrogation, M/M, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-09
Updated: 2020-09-09
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:54:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26243743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phonecallfromgod/pseuds/phonecallfromgod
Summary: They'd all heard the rumours, ripping like wildfire through the Final Clubs and their associated ilk, but Divya was still a little taken aback by the sight of Mark across the long boardroom table at the depositions, all pale skin and dark bags and slightly unhuman wild eyes.So the rumours were true. Someone had turned Mark Zuckerberg into a vampire.(Or; Mark bites off more than he expects asking to drink Divya's blood)
Relationships: Divya Narendra/Cameron Winklevoss
Comments: 12
Kudos: 25





	Love Bytes

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah this is like 3.5k of the Winkleposse being mean to Mark and also they're vampires. It's 2020 I just gotta live my truth.

Divya had heard the rumours. Christ they’d all heard the rumours, ripping like wildfire through the Final Clubs and their associated ilk, but he was still a little taken aback by the sight of Mark across the long boardroom table on their first, and what turned out to be their only, day of depositions. He’d, well, frankly, he’d looked like exactly what people imagine when they think vampire, all pale skin and dark bags and slightly unhuman wild eyes. 

So the rumours were true. Someone had turned Mark Zuckerberg into a vampire, and not very well by the looks of it. Tyler had heard through his own network that he couldn’t even go out in sunlight, like he was goddamn Dracula or something, which had to be a pain given that his whole operation was in sunny California. Say what you wanted about the clubs and their complex rituals, but you couldn’t deny that their process brought you out the other side with far fewer side effects. What Mark Zuckerberg had done to himself was the vampire equivalent of piercing your ears with safety pins on the back of the bus, or letting a friend-of-a-friend’s older brother give you a tattoo during a party. You might have something to show for it at the end of the day, but it probably wasn’t much to be proud about. 

Though Zuckerberg didn’t seem to care, his jaw set defiantly across the table from them, like he’d won just because he’d found someone who was willing to turn him. 

Tyler’s money was on Eduardo Saverin, though Eduardo had vehemently denied it and had never changed his story since the rumours started surfacing. Besides, Divya was pretty sure with the timeline Eduardo would have only been a fledgling and unable to turn Mark even if he’d wanted to. Divya doesn’t personally care all that much who had done it, but he was surrounded by people who desperately wanted to know. There was a lot vampires could do, but secrets were just as secret to them as anyone else, a currency Divya was well-versed in exchanging, so his interest was, admittedly, piqued. 

The next time he sees Mark he’s writing them a check, or rather signing through all the paperwork that will lead to a very important money transfer landing in their accounts. Sadly he doesn’t get to stand over his shoulder, but it’s immensely satisfying none the less, especially since Zuckerberg is throwing in another fifteen million to their original damages. Sure they’ll have to sign NDAs in exchange, but after what Mark Zuckerberg pulled to get himself turned, none of them will ever have to say another word to keep him locked firmly out of any coven on the East Coast. 

“No hard feelings, huh?” Tyler says once the lawyers have dispersed and it’s just the three of them and Zuckerberg left in the room because he can’t help but stir the pot when left alone to his own devices. Divya gets a jolt of annoyance from Cam, who is fussily putting his pen back into his jacket. 

“If circumstances were different we’d probably offer to take you out to dinner,” Tyler continues, pulling his sport coat on, “But. Well.” 

“You still could,” Mark says bluntly, and it’s so gauche that for a moment Divya doesn’t think he can possibly be saying what he’s saying. Even for Mark fucking Zuckerberg that is a pretty huge line to cross. 

But no, Mark’s eyes are on Cameron, flicking subtly to Divya and then back to Cam as he cocks his head. “Aren’t you supposed to bring enough to share with the class?” 

“That’s not really my call,” Cam says breezily, even as his body language tightens. “But you can ask Divya.” 

“I didn’t think that was how it worked,” Mark says with a frown. 

“How did you think it worked?” Divya interjects, stepping in front of Cam. 

“I don’t know,” Mark says, the bravado slipping a little bit, and that’s all the opening Divya needs. “Well like. Can I?” 

It’s perhaps one of the most inelegant ways someone has ever asked to drink his blood, but since it’s Mark, Divya savours the question for a minute, though he already knows he’s going to say yes. He nudges out a firm leather chair out with his foot, “Alright then, whenever you’re ready.” 

“Here?” Mark blinks at Divya and then darts a glance at the twins, and Divya would almost feel bad for the guy if he hadn’t been such an asshole about it and gotten himself into this position. 

“I don’t mind, it’s nothing they haven’t seen.” Though if it were literally anyone else he would have kicked Tyler out. 

“Okay,” Mark says, throat clicking, “So do I just...sit?” 

“The chair’s for Divya,” Cam says, haughty and overprotective, Divya shoots him a look, _down boy_ , and waits until he sees Cam make himself relax before sitting. Tyler kicks out his own chair, sitting legs sprawled and leaned back like he’s watching a game. Well then again, he sort of is. 

“Mark,” Divya says, when it’s clear Mark isn’t going to do anything else without explicit instruction, “You can kneel right here.” 

It’s kind of fun, watching Mark internally argue with himself. Not wanting to kneel in front of Divya but not wanting to call it off now. He knows he’s trapped, and he knows they know he’s trapped too. _Can’t go over it, can’t go around it…_

Mark finally settles himself on his knees beside Divya. Cameron moves, circling around from behind Divya so he can get a better vantage point on Mark. Divya pulls the slim leather folio that he keeps on him at all times out of his breast pocket, unzipping it unhurriedly as Mark shifts slightly on his knees. Divya uncuffs his cufflinks and then unclips his tie clip, Mark flinching involuntarily as Divya sets them on the table and out of the way. Cam’s ready for it when Divya passes him his jacket, tucking it over his arm like a valet. They’ve done this enough times that there’s an easy unspoken rhythm to it. 

“What about your ring?” 

“It’s platinum,” Cameron says, clipped and Tyler snorts as Divya wipes his hand and wrist down with a disinfecting wipe. 

“So I just— wrist, yeah?” Mark says, clearly trying to gain back some of the very little dignity he has left. Reaching for Divya’s right which he’d just wiped clean, then hesitating. 

“Aren’t you right handed?” 

“I am,” Divya says. 

Mark frowns, “Well than shouldn’t I— I mean doesn’t it make more sense to use your left.” 

“Drinking from the left has certain implications,” Divya says airily. 

Tyler snorts. “God, did they just turn you and dump you out of the back of a car? You really don’t know shit.” 

“Ty,” Cam admonishes half-heartedly. 

“So, what? Dumb vampire rules say only tall, blonde and beefy gets to use your left,” Mark says. “Right?” 

“Right.” Divya agrees, as Mark finally takes his wrist but doesn’t move further, “I can make the incision for you if you’d like.” 

“Maybe,” Mark says hesitantly.

“Awww sure and next he’ll get you a curly straw,” Tyler says. 

“Tyler, shut up,” Divya says, “What do you want Mark?” 

“It’s fine” he snaps, grabbing Divya’s wrist more firmly with his icicle hands (Christ, what kind of amateur job _was_ this? Most fledglings don’t even get excessively cold, much less anyone who’s fully turned) and biting down hard before anyone else questions him. All twelve of his front teeth pierce the skin of Divya’s wrist, which is unnecessary but it’s not like it hurts much with the numbing properties of Mark’s saliva. Divya admittedly does find a tiny bit endearing, reminding him of how Cam used to make a mess of his wrist when he was a fledgling and still figuring out how to manage his incisors. 

He looks up over Mark’s curly head and reaches for Cam through their link, familiar and solid. He’s less jealous than Divya expected him to be, but they’ve had enough practice at this routine by now. He’s still on guard though, ready when a thin trickle of blood seeps down Divya’s wrist and pressing his pocket square — Harvard Crimson of course — into Divya’s hands. When he’d first started doing this for Cam he ruined so many shirts, a willing sacrifice and a fantastic excuse to wear as little clothes as possible, but he’d rather not do that with one of the nice Ralph Lauren ones he’d gotten for the lawsuit. 

Mark starts to pull back but Divya puts a hand on the back of his head. “It’s fine, keep going,” he says firmly, and when he lets go Mark stays where he is. Honestly almost anyone else and he’d have just let them stop, but they’re not getting another chance at this and it won’t hurt to make sure Mark is as primed as possible. Plus he’d accidentally passed out in Cam’s bed enough times during senior year that by now he knows his exact limits. 

Cam feels it at the same time Divya does, spine straightening from where he’d been leaned up against the dark wood panelled wall of the room, “Alright that’s enough, I think.” 

“I thought it was Divya’s call?” Mark says, mouth stained red, even though he pulled back and leaned onto his heels the moment Cam spoke. 

“It was,” Cam says, and does not elaborate, testing to see how much, if anything, Mark knows. 

“Alright, whatever,” Mark says, and yeah he knows absolutely nothing. This is going to be a cakewalk. He licks his lips and makes a face, “What blood type even _are_ you.” 

“Yeah a little chalky, right?” Tyler pipes up, hands up behind his head. 

“You let a friend drink your blood once in an emergency and suddenly they’re a connoisseur,” Divya snorts. 

“He’s AB-,” Cameron says, defensiveness lacing the edges of his voice, “It’s the rarest major blood type in America.” 

“Clearly it’s an acquired taste,” Divya says diplomatically, besides he doesn’t really care what anyone but Cam thinks of how his blood tastes. He’s not letting Mark do this for his health, though Mark does look a bit better than before, the ghost of a flush settling over his face.

After a moment Divya holds his wrist back out to Mark expectantly, blood already beading in all twelve little incisions. 

Mark raises an eyebrow at Divya, then looks at Cam. “Uh?” 

“Are you just going to leave it like that?” Divya prompts. Because no, there’s no way even Mark fucking Zuckerberg is that gauche. 

“It’ll heal on its own,” Mark says, like Divya’s the one being rude, “In like, ten minutes, shouldn’t you know that?” 

“Christ, oh my god,” Tyler says, sounding somehow both disgusted and delighted at once. 

“It’s generally considered good form to close the puncture yourself,” Cameron says in that sickeningly sweet understanding way he does when he wants to be extra passive aggressive. 

“Well that’s. That’s— ” Mark makes a face, “I don’t know how to even do that.” 

Now that’s genuinely a bit alarming, Mark not knowing the minutiae of vampire etiquette was one thing, not knowing a basic survival skill was another entirely. 

“Cam, would you,” Divya says, holding up his wrist. He keeps his eyes on Mark, who is still on his knees, 

“Of course,” Cam says, hands warm against Divya’s wrist as he closes the puncture, and then in a move of shocking boldness, licks off the remaining blood from Divya’s now healed skin. Divya’s into it enough that he barely thinks about the fact that Cam did just swap spit with Mark. 

“Thank you sweetheart,” Divya says, wiping his arm perfunctorily with a second disinfectant wipe as Mark finally gathers the wherewithal to clamber to his feet. “Now Mark, I’d love to know who exactly turned you and left you with such terrible manners.” 

“Oh, it was Sean Parker,” Mark says, and more than the information, Divya really relishes the split second of Mark realizing what he just said, eyes widening satisfyingly. “What the fu— how did you— ” 

“Now see, this is why you don’t let someone who doesn’t know anything turn you,” Divya says standing and leaving his chair empty. 

“What the fuck,” Mark says. 

“It’s just a simple compulsion,” Divya says, “It would have been common courtesy for Sean to inform you to be careful of who you drink from. Average person’s never going to put together what you can do once you’ve established a blood link between you and the person who fed off of you. But you take someone with a little determination and four years of experience. Well. That’s when things can get interesting.” 

Mark makes a betrayed little whine in the back of his throat, “You _conned_ me.”

“No such thing as a free lunch.” 

“Yeah and besides you fucked with us first,” Tyler says, “Payback’s a bitch.” 

“I know, I know. All very upsetting, but, we’re not going to hurt you so why don’t you sit down?” Mark’s legs wobble a little but he stays standing. Stubborn. “Sit down Mark.” 

He goes that time into the chair, Divya circling him as Cam flanks, passing Divya back his jacket, Tyler still watching lazily. He’s not part of their usual routine, but Divya hasn’t hated having some commentary if he’s being entirely honest. 

“Eduardo Saverin didn’t turn you then?” Divya says, rolling his sleeves down and reaching for his cufflinks. 

“No,” Mark grinds out. 

“But you asked him, didn't you?” Tyler says, leaning forward. 

“Fuck you.” 

Divya pulls his jacket back on, adjusting the lapels. “Answer the question please Mark.” 

“Yes,” Mark says, blood stained teeth bared in a snarl, “I asked him so many fucking times and he— he wouldn’t. Said he couldn’t. But Sean did. Sean could.” 

“Well I guess the Phoenix isn’t totally full of shit,” Tyler murmurs to himself, though Divya doesn’t think anyone in any of the final clubs truly thought that an insider would have done to Mark what Sean Parker did. Especially given that one of the only things they _did_ know was that Mark had gone from a painfully human Harvard sophomore to the vampire CEO of Facebook in well under twenty-four months. 

“How long did it take?” Divya asks, fingernails biting into the wood of the table. 

“Ten days.” 

“Christ,” Cam says, whistled between his teeth and Divya feels his horror. The twins were punched their junior year which meant they’d been turned over eighteen months instead of the traditional twenty-four, and while still entirely within the realm of safety, Divya had seen up close how much rougher they’d fared than their fellow club members. Ten days was practical suicidal. 

“You’re lucky to be alive, you know that right?” Divya says, and Mark shrugs, one of those aggressive _fuck you_ shrugs. Which is maybe fair given the circumstances. 

“So this is what you do, right,” Mark says, eyes darting viciously between Divya and Cam, “You trick people into drinking his blood and then what, interrogate them for information? Does that make you feel all big and special? Whoop dee do, you get to play twenty questions everytime your boy toy farms you out. You know they still hold all the power, right? They’re the major players and you’re stuck in the bike room.” 

Cameron makes a face that’s more hurt than anything else, but Divya feels the rage bubbling underneath it. Divya’s not mad though, far from it. 

“You know what your problem is Mark? You don’t see the value in investing your time if the rewards aren’t immediate. Besides, I didn’t trick you, you _asked_.” And they always do. People’s ability to underestimate him and the novelty when he proves them wrong has always been one of his greatest strengths. 

Frankly, it’s almost flattering the way Mark accuses him, like Divya had schemed this from the start, as opposed to having the incredible dumb luck to finally man up and tell Cameron about his feelings mere months before he was punched for the Porcellian. And it wasn’t like he was going to bail after dragging himself through the embarrassing ordeal of acknowledging his feelings. 

The blood drinking hadn’t even been on the table until Cam needed it in a pinch before a crew event, and even then it was Divya who got a little addicted to the rush of having Cam on his knees or in his bed, flush high in his cheeks and eyes bright when he was done. It wasn’t a sexual thing necessarily, but it was so incredibly intimate it kind of looped around to the same part of Divya’s brain until the idea of Cam drinking anyone else’s blood was unbearable. Exclusivity has its perks though, and the longer they’ve done it, the more they seem to find. 

Divya picks up his silver tie clip from the table, Mark flinching like he’s about to sneeze. “Calm down, I’m not going to sear you. I’m making a point. You drank my blood once and I can do this to you, aren’t you curious what I could do after four years?” Divya says, shifting his focus, “Cameron. Give me your hand.” 

He barely has to push him into it at all, Cam going far too eagerly for someone who knows what is about to happen, sliding his hand on top of Divya’s, palm up. 

“Don’t flinch,” Divya says, feeling for the edges of their link and _pulling_ as he takes the tie clip and presses it hard into the skin of Cam’s palm. Mark winces in sympathy and even Tyler looks uneasy as Cam makes a small involuntary noise in the back of his throat as his legs give out and he _thunks_ loudly onto his knees. But he doesn’t flinch, and he doesn’t pull away. Satisfied that he’s made his point, Divya pulls back the clip and inspects the third degree burn in the middle of Cameron’s palm. It’ll heal in less than an hour, but for now it’s a dark brownish colour like grill marks on a steak. He presses down the urge to kiss it better, knowing he’ll undermine his whole point if he appears too whipped. 

He still helps Cam back to his feet though, “Ow,” Cam says, genuine but a little self-deprecating as he pulls him up. 

“Jesus fuck,” Mark says, “You couldn’t have just _explained_?” 

“Sometimes you need to make a more visceral point,” Divya says, clipping the thin silver bar back onto his tie, and he knows Mark got the message from how uneasy he looks. Cameron isn’t farming him out, and he couldn’t make Divya do anything he didn’t want to even if he tried. 

Divya can feel the compulsion starting to weaken. Time to wrap this up. “Let’s get back to you Mark. So what did Parker want in return?” 

“Seven percent.” 

“Seven percent of Facebook?” Cameron asks, cupping his injured hand in the other like a little kid cradling a caterpillar. 

“Obviously.” 

Tyler whistles, “Damn dude you got hustled. You couldn’t _pay me_ enough to get turned in ten days.” 

“Do you know who turned Sean?” Divya says, clipping over top of Mark. 

Mark frowns, thinking, “Uhhh, some guy from— Case Equity? Manning? Mitchell Manning?” 

“Mitchell Manningham?” Cameron corrects, rubbing a thumb over his palm. “Shit.” 

“Oh he _definitely_ wasn’t supposed to do that,” Tyler says, sounding like a little kid on Christmas and reminding Divya exactly why Tyler is usually never in the room when they do this. 

“Darling,” Cam says, a hand on Divya’s back. He can feel Mark starting to slip too but that’s fine, they got what they came for and more.

“Well this has been enlightening,” Divya says, grabbing his leather case from the table and tucking it back inside his jacket. 

“You should really call your buddy Saverin,” Tyler says, “Not everyone else out there is as nice as us and you don’t know shit.” 

“In the meantime, here,” Divya fishes for one of his new business cards, “Take this.” 

Mark takes it, one last good push of compulsion left before Divya feels the line sag and snap, “What, in case I want to get in on the ground floor of your next dating site?” 

“I thought we could be a resource for you, since you seem a little lost,” Divya says, already turning to go, Cam pulling the door open for him as Tyler jumps to his feet. “Especially since you still seem to think that HarvardConnection was a dating site.” 

“...Shit,” Mark says, Divya leading as the twins follow him out of the conference room. 

**Author's Note:**

> A lot of blame/credit to youshallnotfinditso for the initial texts which became this fic as well as to evol_love for being a vampire loving enabler. Find me on tumblr where I'm also phonecallfromgod.


End file.
